


shadows in the atmosphere

by FlashThroughLight



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android Gore (Detroit: Become Human), Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Heavy Angst, Major Character Injury, Maximum Toast, Original Character(s), Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-11-18 19:30:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18125510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlashThroughLight/pseuds/FlashThroughLight
Summary: Hank learned a long time ago that no one was invincible.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chrome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chrome/gifts).



> Based off of a prompt on the Detroit: New ERA server from Chrome/Catalists: "Hey guys I have a prompt and it’s somehow both angst and total crack. so: Connor has his visual/auditory sensors disconnected and so licks people to know who they are."
> 
> Of course, I had to go full angst on it =)
> 
> Thanks to [SkadizzleRoss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkadizzleRoss/pseuds/SkadizzleRoss) for beta reading for me.

Hank learned a long time ago that no one was invincible. It didn't matter what kind of person you were; what you did or why you did it. At one point in his life he thought he'd reached the top, only for a freak accident to take it all away from him.

From then on, Hank kept reminding himself that anything could happen to a person.

Except that didn't register in his mind regarding Connor. Throughout their investigation last November, Connor really _seemed_ invincible. He easily lifted heavy objects, shrugged off bullet wounds, fought off attackers, and he even survived having his thirium pump regulator pulled out of his chest. Those were all things he was able to accomplish on his own. Connor didn't need help in that regard at all. That's what he was built for. It was what Connor excelled in.

So when they were caught in an alley surrounded by junkies high on red ice and awaiting backup, Hank didn't have a worry on his mind about Connor. Maybe about  holding his own, but not _Connor._

There was a crackling in the air and then a sound like nothing he heard before. A scream, a shriek. For a split second Hank didn't recognize it, then the shrieking changed pitch and distorted, became robotic.

A sound like that only ever resulted from pain. Connor didn't feel pain. He _couldn't._

But Hank turned and saw sparks flying as the junkie held up a device against Connor’s face - a taser, it was a _taser_ \- and his mouth was open, that inhumane shrieking piercing through the air.

Hank’s heart told him that Connor was invincible, but his gut revolted at that.

His gut won out. Connor jerked and Hank expected him to disarm the junkie, but his LED shone the brightest red Hank had ever seen and then-

_POP_

Connor went completely still, his shrieking cut off. Then his LED flickered before it went out completely and he slumped to the ground, a marionette with its strings cut. 

Hank almost dropped down with him, instinctively. His legs didn’t want to support him anymore. He wanted to refuse what he saw in front of him, but the dull glow of the LED refuted that. Over the course of their investigation, Hank learned that a dark LED only meant one thing.

And he couldn’t do that again.

He couldn’t have another son taken away from him while he was only a few feet away.

Someone grabbed his arm and Hank didn’t hesitate.To hell with everything. A hard shove was enough to throw the junkie off balance and Hank reached for his sidearm.

The service pistol fired.

A splash of red. A shriek. Another crumpling figure. Except this one didn’t stop shrieking. This one rolled, clutching their knee.

They all would be when Hank was done with them.

He turned to the next one. That shot hit a little high, but it was enough to knock the junkie down.

Then something slammed into Hank’s back, knocking the wind out of him. He stumbled forward and barely managed to catch himself against a dumpster.

“Fuck you, narc!”

He pushed off to the side and watched as a piece of plywood shattered against the metal. Pieces of wood stung as they flew into his face and Hank flinched.

Sirens pierced the air, adding to the cacophony of sounds and Hank never felt more relieved to hear them in his life. The junkie hesitated, and Hank got in a swift right hook to her face. She joined her other friends on the ground.

The remaining perp tried to make a break for it, but ran right into the approaching officers.

“On your knees! Hands behind your head!”

Hank stumbled over to Connor, taking hold of his face. Now that he was up close, Hank could easily see the damage. The taser must’ve been strong. The skin in the middle of Connor’s face had retracted completely; the white chassis underneath was charred and splattered with blue blood.   

But none of that mattered. Hank felt like he was punched in the gut with how fast air left his body when he saw a blip of blue circle around Connor’s LED. So maybe Connor wasn’t invincible, but even this couldn’t keep him down for long.

“Lieutenant? Are you two okay?” It was Chris Miller.

Hank laughed lowly. “Fuck no, but we will be. Call the station and let them know we’ll need repairs for Con-” He jolted when Connor abruptly sat up. “ _Jesus_ , kid. You scared the shit out of me. Give a man some warning,” Hank said, playfully punching Connor’s arm.

It happened before Hank even registered anything. One moment he was just relieved that Connor was still alive and the next his face lit up with sharp pain. He fell on the ground and barely got his bearings before there was a sharp kick to his stomach.

“Lieutenant!” Miller’s voice rang out, before getting louder. “Connor! Stand down, the suspects are in custody.”

Hank’s head swam as he coughed, trying to push himself up. He caught parts of what was happening. Flashes of movement in his periphery and grunts of pain. He shook his head, immediately regretting it as his face ached at the action. Connor hit him. It would make sense because the last thing Connor likely remembered was the taser and the fight, but he should know by now. Miller called out. The situation was supposed to be defused.

But when Hank finally managed to look up, he watched Miller stumble back with a bloody nose and Wilson slam into the wall as Connor kicked him straight to the chest.

It was almost like Hank was back in CyberLife tower as he watched both Connors fight and not know which was his partner. Was this Connor? Or had the taser done more damage than Hank thought?

“Co-” Hank coughed again, feeling like he was on the verge of hacking up his lungs. “Connor!”

His partner came to a stop, but did not relax. Connor remained in a combative stance, but he was standing still enough that Hank caught that the LED was red again. It was just as bright as before and Connor’s head was moving side to side, constantly going in the directions of where he’d attacked Miller and Wilson.

“Connor!” Hank got up, but there was no response. It was like… Like Connor couldn’t hear him. “Fuck.” Even then, Connor still should’ve recognized them.

Something was screwed up and they needed to get Connor help as soon as possible. But how? He’d kick all of their asses, even if they teamed up. Hank needed to get Connor to calm down, he needed to make sure that Connor knew who they were and that they were only trying to help him.

Miller groaned and Hank quickly looked him over. Besides the bleeding nose, it was likely the police officer would be fine.

The blood.

Hank saw that Connor’s mouth was slightly open, artificial breath ragged as he kept up his guard. “Even if you lose a finger, it’s worth it, Hank,” he muttered to himself as he ran his fingers over his split knuckles.

He stomped his foot on the ground as he took a step closer. Still no reaction, which meant that Connor really couldn’t hear. That would be to Hank’s advantage, but he only had one chance or he ran the risk of being knocked out or severely injured.

Just moving closer to Connor made Hank’s heart pound in his chest. As the other officers got to their feet, Hank waved them down. They understood, and took a few steps back. Miller even reached for his radio to call in the situation. Good man.

“Please work. I wanna help you, son,” Hank muttered to himself. He had no idea if Connor had any kind of sensors that would warn him when Hank got in close, so he had to be quick.

With another glance to his hand to make sure there was enough blood, Hank ran forward, hand stretched out. His aim wasn’t great, his fingers bumping against Connor’s lip before they pressed into his mouth. Connor immediately reacted. His hands came up, grabbing Hank’s arm. He was going to break it, a move Hank had seen often enough. Just like how he recognized Connor was going to bite down by the shift in his jaw. It was a reaction Hank had seen before, a sudden flashback to when Cole was a toddler and had a biting phase.

But the pressure on his arm lessened and Connor’s jaw slackened, so Hank’s fingers slipped out of his mouth and left behind a faint trail of red. His LED flickered again.

Red, red, red… Yellow.

“H-Hank?” Connor’s voice still sounded garbled, all staticky and like he was underwater.

Hank let out a sigh of relief. The shock hadn’t wiped Connor. This was so much better. _This_ they could deal with. “I’ve got you, Connor. I gotcha, son.” He lifted his free hand, placing it on the back of Connor’s neck and pulling him in close.

Connor practically melted into the touch, pitching himself forward and wrapping his arms around Hank. “H-Ha-Hank.”

Even though Connor couldn’t hear him, Hank kept muttering reassurances. He realized that it was also a way of comforting himself in the process. In his old age and poor health, Hank really couldn’t afford to work himself up too much. Especially not when Connor needed his help.

“I c-can’t…” Connor’s voice stuttered again and Hank heard a soft whir, which wasn’t encouraging. “S-s-s-see or hea-hear you.”

Hank moved his hands to Connor’s face, gently guiding the android from his chest to take a look at him. Now that his eyes were open, Hank could see just how much damage was done. The pop he heard earlier must’ve been one of Connor’s eyes, because it was sparking and there was a puncture in it. The other one didn’t appear to have any damage to it besides some charring around the inner eye socket, but with the way it was moving around, it was clear Connor was trying his hardest to see through it. The damaged one didn’t even move along with the other.

“Hank?” Miller’s voice was gentle this time, almost hesitant. His brows were furrowed when Hank looked at him. “The perps have been taken away to get medical attention. Do we need to call an ambulance for you too?”

“No.” Hank shook his head. “No, thanks, Chris. I can get us back to the station. You called for the tech, right?”

“Of course. They’re expecting you,” Chris said.

“Thanks.” They’d get this all fixed up and then Hank would take Connor home so they could curl up with Sumo to watch those nature documentaries Connor liked so much. Hank wouldn’t even complain about it.

Hank took a step back, ready to lead Connor to his car, but the android’s arms tightened around him and a broken whimper came from Connor. Oh god, how was Hank supposed to reassure Connor that he wasn’t going to just leave him? Connor couldn’t hear or see, so Hank needed to rely on touch.

He gently tapped Connor’s forearms and tugged at them. There was a moment of hesitation, and another whimper on Connor’s part, but he eventually relented and loosened his grip. Hank moved back, but he held onto one of Connor’s hands and gave it a squeeze as he pulled Connor out of the alley and to his car.

They walked slowly. Connor’s steps were uncertain, but he never stopped, putting his full trust in Hank.

When they got to the car, Hank helped Connor into the passenger’s side seat and quickly climbed into the driver’s side. He flicked on his portable siren, not wanting to waste any time getting back to the station. The faster they could get Connor help, the better.

He made the trip back to the station in record time. Making their way into the building was a bit easier. Connor knew his way around, so the steps were more sure as Hank led him inside.

Hank helped Connor settle down at the chair next to his desk. Neither Miller or Wilson were back yet, and the rest of the bullpen was pretty empty. All the better for them. Hank kept his hand on Connor, pulling his chair over to sit in front of the android. He cradled Connor’s hand in both of his. “We’ll fix this, son.”

There was no way Connor could hear him, but it made Hank feel better. Maybe there was a small chance his audio processors would come back online and they only needed some time to boot. This way, Hank’s voice would be the first thing that Connor could hear again.

“Lieutenant Anderson?”

Hank looked up, seeing the precinct’s resident tech. “Hey, Larissa.”

“I got the rundown. Taser to the face?” She asked, already leaning in to look at Connor. Larissa tutted under her breath.

“Yeah. He can’t hear or see right now. Give me your hand,” Hank said.

She held it out and Hank gently guided it on top of Connor’s hand, trying to make sure to keep a point of contact between the three of them as a bridge.

“O-okay, Hank.” Connor nodded.

Hank patted his hand again before he pulled away, loathe as he was to do so, but Larissa took his space and kept contact with Connor, running her hand up his arm and to his face to inspect the damage. At least she understood. That reassured Hank that Connor was in capable hands.

“I’m going to have to remove his biocomponents to see if they’re all permanently damaged or if there’s anything salvageable,” Larissa said. She tapped Connor’s LED and he lifted his hand to it, the rest of his skin deactivating. Hank had never seen Connor this way and it was a little jarring to just see white, but also be able to tell that it was still Connor. A section of his face slid open and Larissa managed to work both of the eyes out.

Hank covered his mouth as she held the both of them in the palm of her hand. The damaged one was completely ruined. Not even Kamski would be able to do anything with it. At first glance, the other eye seemed fine, but as Larissa inspected it, Hank saw that the back was completely burned out.

Larissa set the eyes aside. “I’ll scan them in my lab to see if I have any compatible parts around.” Then she guided Connor’s head gently to the side and removed another piece. Like the eyes, this one was singed as well. “He’s lucky. An electrical surge with this power should’ve fried his brain too, but he must have some extra reinforcement somewhere. If this were any other android…”

He didn’t need to be reminded of that. The moment where he thought that Connor was actually _dead_. “So you just scan them?”

“Yeah. It might take a minute or two, but we’ll know pretty fast.” Larissa gathered all the pieces together and left.

Hopefully they could go home soon. If Hank had his way, they’d be gone as soon as Larissa came back with the parts they needed. No, screw that. Hank _was_ gonna have his way. Fowler could write him up for it later.

“H-Hank?” Connor’s voice was hesitant.

“I’m here, son.” Hank reached out, automatically reaching up to ruffle Connor’s hair. Except his hand rested on the plasteel white cranium. It didn’t feel as jarring as Hank once thought it might be. He hadn’t even noticed that Connor was still skinless. A few seconds later the skin reactivated and Hank felt the hair form under his hand.

Now _that_ was a weird feeling. Hank didn’t let that stop him though and he properly ruffled Connor’s hair this time.

“Lieutenant!”

He looked up and raised his hand in greeting when Miller came into the bullpen. The officer was leading one of the junkies to the holding cells. Not the one that had used the taser against Connor, but Hank was fairly certain he’d shot that one. It was a bit of a blur.

“Hank, Connor! Heard you two got into a bit of trouble. Good to see you’re both in one piece.” Ben came over and patted Connor’s shoulder.

“Ben, wait!” Hank tried to bat the man’s hand away, but he wasn’t fast enough.

Connor immediately reacted, his LED flashing red again. No one had approached him from that side yet, so he was on guard. It looked laughably easy as he shot up, twisting Ben’s arm and throwing the older man over his shoulder and onto the island in the middle of the bullpen with such force that Ben slid over it and fell off the opposite end.

Everyone present jumped. Some officers even had their hands hovering over their firearms instinctively.

“Stop! It’s okay!” Hank held his arms out in an attempt to diffuse the situation. Luckily they all relaxed a little and Hank approached Connor again.

Connor’s LED was still red. His stance was rigid again, filled with tension, just like it had been in the alleyway. “Hank?” Even through the distortion, it was easy to hear the fear in Connor’s tone.

He gently reached out and squeezed Connor’s hand. The tension lessened, but only marginally. Hank checked his hand and saw that there was still a bit of blood on it. So he pressed a finger against Connor’s lips. This time he waited for there to be a reaction and it didn’t take long before a firm tongue pressed against the pad of his finger.

“Hank.” Connor leaned against him once more, tucking his head against Hank’s chest.

“You good, Ben?” Hank wrapped his arm around Connor’s shoulders and rubbed his back.

There was a loud groan on the other side of the island. “I think my back cracked. I don’t know if that means I sprained something or I can skip the chiropractor this week.”

If Ben still had the ability to joke, that meant he’d be okay. It was likely his entire back was going to bruise, but it could’ve been a whole lot worse. Hank hoped they wouldn’t have any more incidents. He needed to stick close to Connor to make sure nothing spooked him. It made him think of Ortiz’s android, way at the start of their investigation and how Connor kept saying that they had to be mindful of his stress levels.

Hank had never seen Connor’s LED be red for such a long amount of time, so he could only suspect that his stress levels were through the roof. Did deviants still have the tendency to self-destruct if they were too stressed? Hank didn’t know if that had changed over the past few months or not. He’d rather not risk it.

“Lieutenant Anderson?” Larissa came back with a frown, watching as Officer Person helped Ben up off the ground.

Hank sighed. “Tell me you’ve got good news, ‘Ris.”

“I wish I did.” She looked genuinely remorseful, her shoulders drooping in defeat. “These biocomponents aren’t like anything we have. It’s too advanced. I don’t think I can even get replacements for them, since Connor is a prototype.”

Hank wanted to be angry. He wanted to shout and swear. But he didn’t. It wasn’t fair towards Larissa. She was just a technician, not someone who created biocomponents. Plus, Hank had an idea.

“What about CyberLife?”

Larissa furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?”

“Connor might be a prototype, but he’s not the only model. I’ve seen another one.” For the second time today, Hank thought about the other Connor model. The one that had tricked Hank into following him to the CyberLife Tower on Belle Isle.

She shook her head. “Hank… I don’t think we can do that.”

“Why not?”

“Haven’t you been following the news? The company is still stuck in requisition and bureaucracy hell. It’s completely frozen. I can put in a request, but it’s probably just going to get stuck in an ever growing pile,” Larissa said.

“How long will that take?” Hank asked. He needed to have a bit of an idea so he could plan.

“Weeks? Maybe even months, I don’t know. I’m sorry, Hank.”

“Fuck.” Hank whispered, giving into the urge to press his face against the top of Connor’s head. That was long. Too long. He needed to find a way to wrap his head around this. “We’re going home.” He nudged Connor away from him.

“Y-yes Hank?” Connor lifted his head and looked up at him.

Or he would have.

If he had eyes.

Before, when his skin was disabled, it wasn’t a problem, but now that it was back, all Hank could see was the young man he viewed as a son with empty eye sockets. His stomach roiled in discomfort, but he quickly looked away, feeling guilty that he couldn’t stand the look of it.

“Home,” Hank said again, turning his back to Connor and leading him to the car.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor has to learn how to deal with being blind and deaf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, many thanks to [SkadizzleRoss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkadizzleRoss/pseuds/SkadizzleRoss) for beta reading for me.

Connor's processor was built to register little details. His original purpose was to always be busy. Solve crimes, connect the dots, hunt deviants. Being idle was not part of his programming. Even after becoming deviant and learning more about himself - who _Connor_ was - he found that he was never still. Moving around became second nature. Playing with his coin, wandering outside with or without Sumo, tapping his foot when he and Hank watched television together. Stillness was against everything that was _Connor_.  
  
The loss of his vision and hearing brought along another type of stillness. One that Connor never quite took into consideration. His body remained able to move, but now that movement was restricted. His mind kept telling him that he needed to get up and do _something_ , but he couldn't.  
  
Connor hadn't been able to for almost two weeks now.  
  
Two weeks of stillness.  
  
It brought everything into a new perspective. Before, when he was still a machine, damages to his biocomponents would have been dealt with immediately. As a prototype, it was imperative that he was functioning at maximum capacity at all times. There were spare parts for him. _Spare bodies_.  
  
But those were all with CyberLife.  
  
And getting what they required from CyberLife was out of the question.  
  
Connor knew what was going on. They'd quickly realized that he was still able to receive messages, even if they weren't visible for him, and that was his only form of direct communication for the time being.  
  
However, even that was an inadequate form of communication. Hank wasn't the most articulate when sending text messages. Neither was he the fastest typer. Even the text to speech option never worked out as well as they'd hoped.  
  
It took too much time. Often more than they had. And while Hank was helping Connor every step of the way, Connor knew that the Lieutenant was getting frustrated.

He also knew that he wasn't the source of the frustration. Hank had reassured him of that time and time again and Connor believed him.  
  
But Connor wasn't supposed to be so dependent on someone else. On multiple people. By now, a string of individuals had been enlisted to help him. Larissa, the tech at Central Station, some other techs the DPD had under employment at other locations, and even a few that Ris knew personally. From what Connor understood, they were trying to find compatible parts for him while also attempting to work with his damaged biocomponents. A whole slew of people working for him.  
  
And Connor had been poked at, prodded at.  
  
Even though he knew that Ris was the only technician Hank let work directly with Connor, not being able to see what she was doing or hear what they were discussing around him really put him on edge.  
  
While his HUD was now compromised, Connor still received a constant stream of input from his system.  
  
Long lists of errors and warnings. Notices of missing biocomponents. The constant reminder of his ever high stress levels, always bordering on the edge of dangerous.  
  
It was only with support that Connor managed to keep it from spiking to the maximum amount of stress.  
  
Sitting at home with Sumo, always keeping a hand on the Saint Bernard.  
  
Receiving texts from Hank that were updates about what he was eating or a joke that came to his mind.

They'd even come up with a system so Connor would recognize who was around him without a message needing to be sent. He didn't know who thought of it, but he was grateful to them. On average, it had lowered his stress by about 7 percent.  
  
If anyone felt the need to touch him, they all had their own way of doing it. An initial point of contact that would reassure Connor that he was still with people he trusted.  
  
Ris tapped his shoulder four times in quick succession. Hank ruffled his hair. Chris Miller squeezed his elbow while rubbing gently with his thumb. Ben would place his hand on Connor's left bicep and rub up and down twice.  
  
It was a good system.  
  
When it worked.  
  
Because humans were fallible. They tended to forget a lot of things.

Logically Connor knew the people that he was around. Every morning Hank would bring Connor to the station with him in case Ris had something new and they followed the same routine. They always walked from the parking lot into the station. Hank would be at his right side with a hand on Connor's back to guide him down the same path they took every day. That hand would remain there until Connor was led to his desk.  
  
Around him were people that he worked with - although Connor wouldn't quite say trusted yet - and Hank made sure that anyone who possibly held ill intent of any sort stayed far away from them.  
  
_Logically_ Connor knew he was safe. He recognized the people that were supporting him through this time. He was aware that they all wanted him to regain his senses.  
  
But he was programmed to react. And his stress levels kept him on edge at every moment.  
  
If anyone touched him, and it was not one of the touches that Connor recognized, his body would immediately react. Anything unknown was treated as dangerous.  
  
Stray touches that were meant to be companionable became threats.  
  
Connor had tossed people around, struck out at others, and he'd even shattered a coffee mug on Officer Brown's shoulder.  
  
If that wasn't bad enough, there was only one way to calm him down. One way that always guaranteed to bring him out of a fear response.  
  
His biological analysis software.

The only way for him to break through his fear was if someone cut their finger and stuck it in his mouth.  
  
More often than not it was Hank, but he wasn't always the quickest to react.  
  
It was risky every single time. While Connor's software analyzed quickly, particularly with samples that he'd already taken before, sometimes his reactions were just faster. They hadn't told him, but he was quite sure that he'd done more damage to Chris' finger than just breaking the skin with his teeth.  
  
Whereas before Connor viewed the biological analysis software as one of his greatest strengths, it now became his greatest embarrassment. The fact that people consistently had to harm themselves and _stick their finger in his mouth_...

It was utterly humiliating.  
  
He should be better than this. He should not jump at the slightest unknown. Connor was safe. Connor was protected by those closest to him.  
  
Connor was at the edge of a precipice.  
  
If he could cry, he would. Just curl up and sob. Hide himself until he cried all of his anxiety and frustration away for the time being. But, as it was, his biocomponents were still too damaged. Ris had fixed as much as she could, but Connor had turned all non-essential functions off. He could not risk the chance that the fluid would roll back into his eye socket rather than down over his cheeks.  
  
But that was another point of worry for him.  
  
The fact that he, currently, didn't have any eyes.

Ris had gone through the options of setting non-compatible biocomponents in place, but because the exact extent of how much Ris had managed to fix was still unknown, they didn't dare try anything. In this case, it was better that they didn't take any chances. Even Connor wasn't able to predict what would happen. He didn't exactly have the manual to his model in his head. That was all CyberLife copyright and they hadn't even heard anything from the company yet. There was no way of knowing how long it'd take.  
  
For now, he wore glasses that Hank gave him one of the first days after the taser incident.  
  
They'd been given without prompt and Connor hadn't asked what they were for. It made sense to him. Empty eye sockets certainly weren't appealing to look at, even if he was an android. Connor could imagine just how disturbing it was to look at his very human face and then see two empty holes where his eyes should be. So he kept the sunglasses on at all times. It was better for everyone around him.  
  
So much effort and attention went into trying to get him back in working order and Connor couldn't do anything but sit around and hope that others would figure it out. He'd tried to help, was still attempting to convince Hank that he could function in enough of a capacity that he would not remain a burden.  
  
The usual response was a hair ruffle and Hank sending a string of smiling emoticons to him.

Still Connor felt utterly lost as he spent his days at his desk. He could still interface with his computer and work through reports for current investigations, but he wasn't able to come along with Hank whenever he went out to crime scenes. Ris always stayed with him when Hank went out and, luckily, she was much more proficient at typing. While the conversations were still a little stilted due to the wait for Ris' response, they always made Connor feel better.  
  
It also became routine.  
  
So one day, almost a month after the taser incident, when Ris suddenly stopped replying to him, Connor was understandably worried. There was no text, no touch, and when Connor reached out to where Ris had been sitting, he was met with nothing but empty air. His stress levels hiked up immediately.  
  
Had something happened that she needed to step away?  
  
Had he said something that made her want to leave?  
  
No, it couldn't have been that. They were talking about the ocean. At no point had her responses indicated any form of discomfort. But she wouldn't just leave. Larissa had never done that.  
  
Why would she leave?  
  
_Why?_  
  
Then, just as suddenly as she was gone, Connor felt four quick taps on his right shoulder. _Ris_.  
  
A message came in.  
  
            <<Larissa: We're getting you fixed, Connor.>>

Connor couldn't believe it, even with the words embedded in his mind. Not even when Hank returned and he got a text filled with exactly seventeen exclamation points before he was wrapped in a warm, tight hug. It all felt like it was going over Connor's head.

At this point, he'd been visually and hearing impaired for a fifth of his sentient life. It all felt like it blurred together at this point.  
  
There was a rush of excitement from the people around him. A rush of information that was sent to him regarding the date when a CyberLife technician would be able to perform repairs on him. A rush of everything.  
  
It was exciting, but also terrifying.  
  
Going back to CyberLife was the last thing that Connor wanted. Even if, according to the news, the company had finally been sorted out and formed a coalition with the New Jericho group. CyberLife still created him to hunt down deviants. CyberLife had attempted to take control of him. CyberLife had _used_ him.  
  
Those fears and doubts remained even as Hank and Ris accompanied him to the CyberLife tower. Even as they all sat down together and the CyberLife technician hooked Connor up to a computer that would transcribe their whole conversation to him.

It was helpful to have a constant stream of dialogue for once, even if Connor barely said anything. He sat in his chair, rubbing his hands over his thighs and fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt.  
  
Connor got a hug from both Hank and Ris before he was taken aside by the CyberLife technician and hooked up for repairs. As soon as he was connected with the machine, he kept dreading that a message would appear. A message that something was being downloaded. A message from _Amanda_.  
  
But nothing came before he went into stasis for the repairs.  
  
And nothing was there when he booted up again.  
  
His system was still going through initial set-ups when there was a ruffle of his hair and taps on his shoulder. Hank and Ris. Both of them were present the moment that he woke up.

Connor cautiously opened his eyes and finally understood why Hank flinched and covered his eyes when Connor flicked the lights on in the morning when the Lieutenant tried to sleep in. The light was blinding. After so long of not seeing anything, his systems stuttered as they calibrated his new eyes. But he saw the light. He saw the shapes of his friends.  
  
The HUD booted up first, displaying the list of system reports that were currently being run.  
  
Shortly after, Connor's vision cleared completely and he could see Hank and Ris in front of him.  
  
The bags under Hank's eyes had grown darker than Connor had ever seen them. His hair was greasy and his beard was unkempt, but there was a smile on the man's lips. Similar to the one Hank had given him on November 11th at the Chicken Feed.

Next to him was Ris, a wide grin on her face. Her dark skin covered with freckles and her auburn curls wild.  
  
Then Hank's mouth moved.  
  
And Connor didn't hear a word he said.  
  
The new biocomponent had been installed. Connor had already seen it on the ever growing report list. So why couldn't he hear? Connor looked between both Hank and Ris as their lips moved, first quickly in excitement, then slower, until they curled down into near identical frowns.  
  
Hank reached out, grabbing one of Connor's shoulders tightly and the other hand brushed against his cheek. The fingers came back wet.  
  
Oh.

The crying function must have reconfigured during the reboot. He just wished that it'd come back on at a better time. Connor had seen enough movies where people would cry of happiness and he wished that he could be one of those people. _If only Connor could be._  
  
Ris cornered the CyberLife technician, poking harshly at his chest a few times before gesturing back to Connor. Hank stayed in front of him, looking concerned and his lips still moving, but there was nothing. Nothing at all.  
  
Even the system reports came up completely error free.  
  
"Hank." Everyone stilled as Connor spoke. "I can't... I can't hear you."


End file.
